


the house always wins

by AvaMclean



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Family, Father-Son Relationship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-28
Updated: 2013-03-28
Packaged: 2017-12-06 17:46:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/738390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AvaMclean/pseuds/AvaMclean
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bobby’s never wanted children, but the looks those two boys send him when he teaches them something new, something as mundane as baseball, makes him wish he’d been more open to the idea with Karen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the house always wins

Title: the house always wins  
Word Count: 1170  
Fandom: Supernatural  
Prompt: #338 – double down  
Rating: FR10  
Disclaimer: Supernatural and all related characters are copyright Eric Kripke, Kripke Enterprises & The CW Network. No infringement intended.

Synopsis: Bobby’s never wanted children, but the looks those two boys send him when he teaches them something new, something as mundane as baseball, makes him wish he’d been more open to the idea with Karen.

+

Rain hits the roof, creating a soothing sound that tends to put Bobby Singer in the mood for research and a strong cup of coffee with his friend Jim Beam, but instead he finds himself watching John Winchester’s boys—again. Now don’t get him wrong. He likes these boys, adores them really, but when a man becomes accustomed to a quiet home of one adding two rambunctious kids with more brains than sense (a dangerous combination that) he’s forced to entertain them more in one day than he has anyone else in the past year.

Bobby’s never wanted children, but the looks those two boys send him when he teaches them something new, something as mundane as baseball, makes him wish he’d been more open to the idea with Karen. A thought that’s better worked over another day, a day when he’s not going to be spent cooped up in his own home with two boys who watch his moods like a field mouse watches for hawks. He’s not entirely certain he wants to think over why those boys watch and cater to his moods so easily so instead he deals Dean, Sam and himself two cards each and awaits the inevitable slip of their poker faces. 

Sam, as he’s come to expect, is the first to crack as a look of delight spills across those narrow features of his and he turns over two aces, more than likely thinking he’s won, but blackjack is a different beast than the poker they played last time the boys stayed a few days at his place. Rather than squash the kid’s elation, Bobby asks a question since he knows Sam is the thinker of this pair. Always watching and learning that boy.

“What’cha got there?”

“Aces,” Dean retorts for his brother, voice sullen as he acts as if Sam has won, but the smile he hides by ducking his head towards his chest belies the fact that Deans been paying more attention than his little brother this time around.  
Sam beams, one of his two front teeth missing and the one coming in looks twice the size of the rest, as he holds up the two cards in confirmation of his brother’s statement. “I got two of a pair, Bobby!”

The excitement tugs a smile onto his face and he nods his agreement. “That you do, but what do aces mean in blackjack.”

His smile slips and blue eyes narrow as he ponders the question a second before replying, “They can mean a one or an eleven.” His eyes widen and he puts the card back on the table between them and it’s his turn to sound defeated as he states, “So I only have two, twelve or twenty-two.”

“That’s right, but a pair also means you can split if you want and play each ace as a separate hand.”

Sam ponders the nickel he’s placed for his first bet and then looks back to the aces before slowly, tongue between his teeth, he separates the two cards and then places another nickel beside the first. He looks up at Bobby, eyes slightly pleading, before saying, “Hit me?”

The high-noted end to his statement makes it a question. Bobby smiles and explains, “We play one ace at a time.” He lays down the first card which is a seven and Sam quickly waves his hand in front of that set of cards. “Stay at eighteen,” Bobby states and then moves to the next set. Two threes and a ten are laid before Sam waves his and again and stops the next card and Bobby nods and states, “Stay at seventeen.”

Dean looks over his brother’s sets before smiling and adding another quarter beside the bet he’s already placed. Bobby studies the boy’s cards and nearly shakes his head at the ten and eight already in front the kid. Sam might be the thinker of the pair, but Dean’s the one with all the daring and, more often than not, the one with all the luck. So Bobby is unsurprised when Dean’s double down, his guess about the smile had been right and Dean had been paying attention to his lesson, works to his advantage as he lays a two of spades sideways across Dean’s cards to show he can’t receive any more and announces, “Stay at twenty.” 

A whoop escapes Dean as one fist is punched towards the ceiling and Bobby raises a brow before moving onto his own cards, the ace and four that await his next move. Another ace joins the set and Bobby frowns at the fact that he didn’t shuffle the cards nearly enough. He ignores Dean’s eager face as he lays another card and smiles down at the four of hearts looking back at him.

“We tied!”

Dean’s excitement dampens some of Bobby’s smugness as he replies, “What I’d tell you in poker?”

Sam pips up, interrupting the both of them with, “The house always wins.” He turns his gaze toward Dean and his voice softens as he asks, veering the conversation off topic as only a child could do, “Think we’ll ever have a house, Dean?”

That was quite a question to put on a kid and Bobby answers for him, his tone gruff and implying as if what he says is the most obvious thing, “You got a house.”

Dean shoots him a look that clearly tells him not to lie to his kid brother, but it’s Sam that states, “ _Nowedon’t_ ,” all three words running together into one statement. 

“Yes. You do.” Bobby glances around his living room and grimaces as he notices, as if for the first time, that the shelves and every other available surface are cluttered with anything and everything, but what should be on them. He concedes to them, “I know it’s not much, but it’s mine,” his chin dips, nodding to both of them, “And yours.” There’s a pause and then he hastily adds, “And your dad’s.”

The last bit seems to settle Dean and he looks around the house as if really noticing it for the first time and the smile Bobby’s statement brings on is close to the one that graced Dean’s face the first time he’d hit a baseball into the stands. Sam’s already standing, the game they’d been playing forgotten, before he turns his smiling face on Bobby and asks, “Can we get a dog?”

Dean’s smile slips and he shoots his brother a frown, for what Bobby assumes, is for pushing too hard and too fast. “Sam, we can’t get—”

Bobby interrupts him, “I don’t see why not,” bringing both boys’ very direct stares on him as he counters, “But not today.” He motions Sam to sit under Dean’s far too watchful gaze and taps the table, “Today you learn blackjack.”

“And tomorrow?”

Sam’s hopeful question is answered by Dean’s, “Dads _s’pose_ to be back tomorrow.”

Bobby answers that with a very certain, “Next time,” and finds himself, like always, looking forward to it.

+

The end.


End file.
